"This compilation is a gathering of electronic and industrial artists and bands under one unifying theme: We are all interested in communicating honestly with the fans, the music consumers, to educate them to the realities, and to dispel many of the myths and misinformation about how artists and bands survive today." Read more...
The meaning behind the song "Disentangle"? When the video comes out on February 16, you might get a few clues. Until then, listen to the song and watch the outtakes.
Disentangle is the third in a year-long monthly-ish song & video release project.
Written & performed by Nathanael Matthias Weiss. Vocals, guitar, bass, drums, artwork & production by NMW.
Video features Shireda Dawn Savia, Kjohnn and NMW. Directed by Chise. Costumes by BRee. Filmed in Jacksonville, Oregon.
Waking at 4am on my boat Faith.. Deep night fog makes my one-oared, standing row of Jimbo like an Italian character in the prologue to a Murder, She Wrote novel.. I row him down the line of moored boats, and, completely out of character, smile and wave at the skipper of a trimaran I have never before seen.. At the shore I giggle boyishly at my successful dinghy leap over wave onto the sand without a drop of water to wet my boot.
Car it out the 8.. It is December, yet the predawn Cleveland National "Forest" is merely crisp, promising a hot, sun-drenched desert-like day. With an apple for a bong and a smile in my heart, I strap my guitar, tripods and cameras to my back and begin to hike..
Halfway up I'm nearly out of water (if you've seen the video, you've seen some dancing) and, like an over-heated motor, must lie in the shade to cool. From here its rations and ditch the guitar..
Several times I nearly turn around for want of a drop.. But the summit calls me..
Releasing a song & video each month is a chance for you to hear music that transmogrifies (as most Bullets in a Burning Box songs do over time). This, for me, is the ultimate liberation. Just release... With the distant opportunity to change, re-arrange, alter lyrics, add bass guitar or follow whatever yellow-brick road materializes within my tumultous head.
Also, it allows a month of fresh air to flutter the lyrics. There is something about being an artist, in that, pieces of my current emotional milieu stir themselves into the present song or art piece.. (Writing more than one song per month creates bland, identical twins.) The month (okay.. sometimes two months) allows wide soul space to draw in all chi and exhale some gargantuan dragon breath.
This month's breath is called "Of Life, I Want to Live."
Storm day! The wind is like a circling, fierce wolf. White caps tip the bay like a Chinese army in a fog. My neighbor's dinghy has nearly become forfeit to the sea. Faith rides like a see-saw (sp?) Yours truly quelled the temptation to expose, then pile the generator beneath outdoor pillows. Its a querrellous, primal day. On the boat. Meditate your way to me, Daedalus.
boulders. glee. part of wisdom (and sensibility) beckon. they chant "turn around." but to capitulate to fear is passé. part of the past, eh? so on we trudge. a dark hill, darker still. cat eyes ain't human. stink of fear. on, on. twist up, back. stumble. like an infant on fours. through the rivulets. up the packed dust. avalanches of foot-sized rock. scrambling in the dark, dark. moon still a quarter day beneath the earth. just the twilight stars and one. spear tree in hand. again one stands. and ascends. switching back, back in the dark, dark. singing yo, ho, a bottle of rum. to frighten what doesn't lurk in the bushes. their scratchy leaves silent. even the song swallowed by the heavy night. month it all turns brown. hot oregon. month of the dead. hot california. last twist. and the ridge breaks. starts to fall. and the peaks come out to play. trails intersecting. lawson leaming. calling. whispering. it, so sexy. it, colored in a world of night. so touchable, backlit. to the summit. (beyond all fear.) beyond a recognition of what was. over these boulders. bleeding from these limbs. leveraging the cracks. all weight on one point. bouncing in stride. pausing to acclimatize. the scent of dirt. vessels overhead. shadows born. shadows die. circling the peak. rounding on the western side. jaw agape. laughter. skipping. gripping one last crack. up through. into the cave. groping in the dark. sky bright keyholes. climb straight up. out to the summit. beyond the summit, to the true top. hot night. sexy peak beneath one's sleep. like a true friend. like a lover. carve our initials into lawson peak. yo, ho, a bottle of rum. (this one life for one.)
NINa (of Fabryka Industrial Rock webzine), with Marco Gariboldi, conducted an interview with yours truly. We talked about religion, economy, travel, nature, the meaning behind the name "Bullets in a Burning Box," the sailboat studio, and of course, music.
NINa (of Fabryka Industrial Rock webzine), with Marco Gariboldi, conducted an 
